


Pit of the Gods

by averzierlia



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-17 17:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/179573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/averzierlia/pseuds/averzierlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><span><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/merlin_santa/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/merlin_santa/"><b>merlin_santa</b></a></span>  gift for <span><a href="http://scatter-muse.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://scatter-muse.livejournal.com/"><b>scatter_muse</b></a></span></p>
            </blockquote>





	Pit of the Gods

“This is _ridiculous_ , Merlin,” Arthur snaps, taking a careful look around from his position hiding behind one of the temple’s pillars, one of his hands wrapped in Merlin’s tunic, anchoring him in place.

“This isn’t my fault!” Merlin yelps, trying (unsuccessfully) to break Arthur’s hold. “It was-”

“ _Do not say her name_ ,” Arthur snarls, turning on him.

“Alright, alright, _sorry_. But this _isn’t my fault_!” Merlin says.

“ _Everything_ is your fault Merlin, haven’t you learned by now?” Arthur says, relaxing, just a little.

Nothing bad seems to be happening, which is a good thing in Merlin’s opinion. Well, nothing beyond the fact that they seem to be in ancient Rome. And it really is _her_ fault, because Merlin knows absolutely nothing about time travel and next to nothing about how his magic works, and of _course_ now that Arthur knows he assumes that every little thing that’s out of the ordinary is Merlin’s fault. Which isn’t fair, even if it is fairly accurate.

“My lords! What are you doing _here_?” comes the panicked voice that breaks their contemplation. The speaker is a slight man, no more than a boy really, who has, yes, a panicked expression to go with his voice. He’s dressed in a toga and sandals, and Merlin glances down at himself reflectively.

…not his clothes, because he doesn’t own anything this shimmery and gold, and while it’s not a _toga_ it’s _defiantly_ a robe, and Merlin doesn’t own any of _those_ either, because he doesn’t have a death wish. And Arthur…Arthur is dressed as a _gladiator_.

Merlin gives himself a mental shake as Arthur asks “My _lords_?”

The boy’s look a panic deepens to terror, and he prostrates himself at their feet (sandaled).

“Great Aeternitas, Lord of Eternity, and Lord Arthus, scion of Mars, you are expected in the Pit,” he says, addressing the ground.

The Pit, Merlin thinks, sounds ominous.

“The Pit?” Arthur asks.

*

“Welcome, Citizens of Rome, to the Pit of the Gods!” booms the voice of the Emperor over the gathered crowd.

The crowd roars, loud and long, and Arthur resists the urge to cover his ears, even though he’s not used to this many people.

“There has been a challenge!” the Emperor says when the crowd quiets. “A challenge from a scion of Hades against Aeternitas!” the Emperor gestures, indicating the empty side of the Pit and the side where Merlin and Arthur are standing.

A hush of anticipation descends over the crowed.

“Arthus, scion of Mars, will stand as Aeternitas’ champion against the Beast of the Dark, champion of Nimueh!”

“Arthur,” Merlin hisses, “this _doesn’t sound good_!”

Arthur turns and glares at him. “ _Thank you_ , Merlin, I would never have known that if you hadn’t pointed it out to me,” he says scathingly. Merlin gulps, and for a second Arthur thinks that he’s _finally_ instilled some fear into Merlin, but Merlin is looking over his shoulder. Apparently the Emperor had finished explaining what the bloody hell was going on and called in Arthur’s opponent.

Which seemed to be a man shaped black blob. That bubbled.

Arthur isn’t sure what’s going on, but he’s damn sure he doesn’t approve. He takes a step back without thinking, eyeing the goop the thing is dripping. It bubbles like acid in the sand.

“Do you wish to withdraw?” the Emperor inquires.

Merlin pales.

“No,” Arthur says, drawing his sword and settling his buckler on his arm. He glances over his shoulder at Merlin. “When I kill whatever this is and we get back, you're making this up to me,” Arthur tells Merlin flatly.

Merlin just nods, blushing a little.

Arthur smiles fiercely and turns back to the Beast of the Dark. He lunges forward, sword sweeping up like a comet in the sunlight.

This would be _fun_.


End file.
